LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap**.!./. Copyright No.. 
Shelf,Za.S_?8;3 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



A 



Emancipated 
Woman . . • 



OR 



A SCENE FROM REAL LIFE 
IN THE YEAR SOOO 



A BURLESQUE IN EOUR ACTS 




GIVING THE CAST OF CHARACTERS, COSTUMES, SCENERY, 
EXITS AND ENTRANCES, AND STAGE BUSINESS, 




£ 2 6 :: ^ 

Copyright 1895, by the Congregational Church Society of LeMars, Iowa. 



1895: 

RAGSDALE & CHASSELL, 

LeMars, Iowa. 



v/f 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

Mr. Maria Hiidwxstoxe. a domestic slave. 

Mb. Elizabeth Herbert. 

Mb. Fbancis O rover. 

Me. Watup. 

Mr. Beacon street. 

Mb. Bland. 

(holly Brownstone, a charming- bud. . 

.Mrs. Brownstone. President of the Ladies" Club. 

Mes. Hebbebt. 

.Mrs. (Jrover. 

Mrs. Bkaconstbeet, a gold-bug. 

.Mrs. Hi. and, a free silverite. 

Mrs. Wayup. 

Miss Daisy Smashem, a rising young woman. 

Dusty Maud, a female tramp. 

Time of presentation — One hour and fifteen minutes. 

COSTUMES. 

Brownstone. — First Act. Mother Hubbard with apron tied around waist. 
Third Act — Black Prince Albert coat with enormous red sleeves of style 
prevailing - at present date. Broad ruffles of same around skirt of coat 
and bottoms of trousers, Fourth ^ d— An old patched modern suit. 

Herbert. — First Act. Short gown over ordinary coat. Shawl over head. 
Third Act — Same as Brownstone. with pink sleeves and ruffles. Fourth 
Act— Old suit. 

Gbovee. — Third Act Same as Herbert and Brownstone. with blue ruffles 
and sleeves. Fourth Act — Old suit. Other male characters in old patch- 
ed suits with the exception of Wayup. who should be gotten up as gor- 
geous as possible. 

(holly Brownstone. — Little Lord Fauntleroy suit. The ladies all to 
be dressed in bloomers of exagerated cut, according to the costumes of 
the new woman as given in Puck and Judge. 

Dusty Maud. — Bloomers and large sleeved waist of many colors, much 
patched, red hair, two or three tomato cans hung at waist, enormous 
hat with flowers. 



NOTE. 

All the characters are to be -played by men. and the fun will be height- 
ened if the cast is made up among the more prominent business men of the 
community. Large latitude may be taken in the costuming, the idea be- 
ing a broad burlesque of the new woman movement. 

POSITIONS. 

Right means right side of stag-e facing audience. Left means left side 
facing audience. 



TWP92-009331 




EMANCIPATED WOMAN, 

A Burlesque in Four Acts. 



ACT I. 

Scene: — Kitchen in the Brownstone residence; (right) wash tub and clotlies bas- 
ket; stove (upright) with boiler in. containing clothes; clothes pins in boiler. 
Cradleor baby carriage containing baby in center. {Left) Table with tiro 
chairs. Cupboard containing dishes in left corner of room. Mr. Brown- 
stone engaged in doing the family washing and tending the baby between 
times. 

Brownstone (soliloquising - ) My! I do wonder if this will ever come 
clean. I wish Maria would learn not to keep the towels down at the office 
until they get so dirty that they will stand alone. Surely there must have 
been a great change in the last hundred years. Last night after baby was 
asleep I ran across a book Mrs. Brownstone had been reading — "A Descrip- 
tion of Society as it existed in the year 1895." It seems 'like a dream to 
think of it. Why it seems that, at that time, men were actually at the 
head, notonly of families, but of the government. But now what a change! 
Women not only run the government, but they run us too. and we. the 
former lords of creation, are compelled to attend to domestic affairs and 
bring up the children, while our wives and their friends while away their 
time at the clubs discussing financial questions — at least, that's what Maria 
says — but it seems kind of funny to me how she gets all that chalk on her 
clothes discussing finance — or they g-o to the races and bet their last dol- 
lar on their favorite horse. (Bell rings.) I suppose this is Mr. Beacon- 
street, stuck up old thing - : I wonder what he wants. I just have not time 
to g - o to the door. We are down trodden creatures anyway, with hardly 
enough clothes to cover us. Why. I have worn this outfit to do the work 
in for the last five years, and the Lord only knows how much longer I will 
have to wear it. (Bell rings.) There goes that bell again. Well. I just 
won't g-o to that door again untibMaria gets me something to wear. I sup- 
pose the present condition is a great improvement over the past — at least 
.Maria says it is — and under present conditions it is not healthy to dispute 
with her very much. But sometimes it seems to me that men are getting 
the worst of it. What with the washing and ironing- and getting some- 
thing to eat (and Maria always growls if things are not just so) and mak- 
ing dresses and tending baby it seems as if the work was never done. 
( Door hell.) Well just let them ring if they want to: I won , t go to the door. 
Can't help but think about that book; the men in those days must have 
had a jolly time, but I don't suppose they appreciated it. People never 
know when they do have a good thing until it is too late. I guess if we 
could have that kind of a show now, we would make the most of it. I sup- 
pose I ought to be satisfied and not rebel at my lot, but after reading the 
book I sometimes wish things were the same as they were a hundred years 
ago. (Goes to the window.) There comes Cholly, and — whafs that? There is 
a young woman with him. Dear. dear, that boy is a young gentleman now 
and just coming out. and all the girls will be after him. Already there's 
that impertinent Daisy Smashem coming around here — just let me catch 
her — that's all, not a cent to her name — just an impecunious editor. And 



4- EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 

there"s that Goldie Croesus; she's such a nice young woman. I quite enjoy 
her. I wish ('holly liked her a little better, but boys will be boys I sup- 
pose. 

{Enter Chnlly Brownstone — left.) 
Where have you been and who was that with you? 

Choi.i.v. Aw! I was down at the ice cream parlors with Daisy 
Smashem, don't you know. She bought me four plates of ice cream and it 
was just too sweet of her, wasn't it papa, and we just had such a jolly 
time, don't you know. 

Brownstone. Down at the ice cream parlors with Daisy Smashem, 
eh? Don't ever let me hear of your encouraging that young Smashem 
woman. She's not the kind of a young woman for an innocent boy like you 
to have anything to do with. You ought to be at home helping me with the 
work now that we keep no help. There's the breakfast dishes not washed 
yet and it is pretty nearly time to get lunch ready. Your mother will be 
home from the office before long and there's more work to do than I know 
what to do with. 

Cholly. Dishes, dishes, aw, its always dishes. I don't see. papa, why 
we can't keep a hired man like Mr. YVayup. My hands are all spoiled now 
don't you know, with washing dishes. 

Brownstone. Mrs. Wayup makes lots of money, Chollie. while your 
mother has been unfortunate in some of her business ventures lately. 
Times are hard and collections slow, your mother says, and really. Cholly. 
you ought to encourage that Goldie Croesus instead of Daisy .Smashem. 

Cholly. But, papa. I don't like Goldie Croesus. 

Brownstone. Goldie Croesus is a prosperous young woman and she 
comes from a good family, is making lots of money, and is said to be a ris- 
ing woman politically. She is going to take a high place in the govern- 
ment and could give you a luxurious home and a high place in society. 
Now. don't let me hear any more about Daisy Smashem. If I ever catch 
that young woman around here I will make it warm for her. Now get 
into the pantry and wash those dishes. 

Cholly (Aside.) And Daisy is coming - around this evening. Wonder 
how I can get papa out of the way when dear Daisv comes. I know she 
likes me. Aw, dear. (Exit — left. Baby supposed to commence to cry. Brown- 
stone stops to rock the cradle and sing to thebaby.) 

Enter Dusty Maud— left. 

Dusty Maud. Say. is dei-e any of de wimmen folks around de house? 

oBrownstone (frightened) N— noma'am. 

Dusty Maud. Well, say, I'm hungry and want something to eat. see? 
And trot out de best you got in de house, too. or I'll clip j^our whiskers. 

see'.' 

Browstone. Y — yes. ma'am, ((lets loaf of bread from cupboard.) 
Dusty Maud. Wots dis yere givin me? Aintdere any pie in de house? 
I Throws bread of stage I 'rich dropped off) 

Brownstone. No — no. ma'am, but — I might find some if you would cut 
some of that wood out in the back yard. 

Dusty Maud. (Haughtily) I belongs to de Traveling Ladies Federation 
of Leisure and its against me principles to work. See? { Exit Dusty Maud.) 

(Enter Mr. Herbert— right.) 

HERBERT. Good morning. Brownstone! Not through with your wash- 
ing yet? I got through with mine a half an hour ago. Say. Brownstone. 
could you let me have a little baking powder? I knew we were out but 
Mis. Herbert always makes such a kick when we get out of anything in 
the kitchen and she always wants things, about right to eat too. 

BROWNSTONE. Why good morning, friend Herbert. Yes: I can accom- 
modate you. Where is you wife.' Is she at the club? 

Herbert. To be sure she is. She went a short time ago after giving 
me a good lecture for not Inning breakfast on time. 



EMANCIPATED WOMAN. f) 

BROWNSTONE. So it goes. I thought my wife was pretty hard on me. 
"but I guess we all have to take it about alike. What do you think. Her- 
bert, I have just been reading a book about the state of society a hundred 
years ago. This book says that at that time the men were the bosses of 
everything, and even proposed to the women they wanted to marry. What 
do you think of that? -Don't you wish it was the case now? 

Herbert. Really. I don't know. It would be a great responsibility 
to ask a woman to marry you. We are so iised to having the women do all 
those things. But how are you getting along - with your sewing? Do you 
make your wife's club dresses? 

Brownstone. I usually do: but lately I have been so busy putting up 
fruit and tending the baby that I had to hire a dressmaker. Mr. Worth, 
he heliDS me. and what do you think. I had to pay him ~.">c a day and board. 

Herbert. And didn't Mrs. Urownstone make a roar about expense? 

Brown-stone. She did make a kick but I told her she would drive me 
to the grave with all this hard work and no time to even take a walk once 
in a while. She finally relented and agreed to pay Mr. Worth if it did not 
cost over $2.50. 

Herbert. Well. I suppose we have got to stand all these things as it 
will not be real healthy for us if we make a kick. 

Brownstone (in a low and subdued tunc us if some one woiild hear him). 
Say. Herbert. I have been thinking if we men could not do something to 
benefit our condition. What do you think? 

Herbert. I hardly know. If our wives should catch as holding a 
meeting it would not be very healthy around the house for us for some 
time. 

Beownstose. I know that, but I guess if we are real careful they will 
not find it out. Suppose you see a few of the neighbors and we will meet 
down in that old vacant house on Tremont street and the}- will not sus- 
pect what is going on. 

IIekbkrt. All right. I will see them, but we must be awful careful 
not to get caught. 

Brownstone. I must work some schema to get a nigdit key: guess I 
will ask my wife for one today. 

Herbert. I must get one too. Good day. (Exit Herbert.) 

Enter Mrs. Brownstone. 

Mrs. Brownstone. Why, .lames, what do you mean by getting lunch 
ready out here in the kitchen with the washing* all around? 

BRQWN8TONE. Well. Maria. I have just too much to do on wash day to 
waste time getting lunch ready in the dining room. 

Mrs. Urownstone. Won't you ever get the lunch on the table? I 
have an engagement at the office at 1:30 and have not time to stand around 
all day. 

Brownstone. It is all ready now, Maria; just sit down and I will take 
up the meat. 

Mrs. Brownstone (Sitting down) My goodness, .lames, if I were in 
your place I would get something-jfit to eat. What's this mess you have 
here? 

Brownstone. That's cream of dried beef. 

Mrs. Brownstone. That's nice stuff to set before a hungry woman. 
And. -James, these biscuits ought to be called "Sure Death." What do you 
mean by putting- such thing's on the table? 

BROWNSTONE. That last flour you sent up. dear, was no good at all. 

Mr- 1 . Brownstone. Huh! It ought to be good: I paid 50 cents for it. 
Why don't you have some fried chicken or quail on toast, or almost any- 
thing for a little, variety? 

Brownstone. This is wash day, you know, and I have been in a hurry 
to get through, so I hope you will excuse the dainties this morning. 

Mrs. Brownstone. The same old excuse, but I suppose 1 will have to 
overlook it again this mornino- as usual. 



G EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 

BROWNSTONE. By the way. Maria, did you get that piece of silk I 
asked you to bring - up this morning. 

Mrs. Brownstone. Yes, I left it out in the hall. 

B. Did you get the pins? 

Mbs. B. Yes. dear. 

B. And the ribbon? 

Mrs. B. Yes. 

B. And Bobby's shoes? 

Mrs. 15. Yes. 

B. And the whisk broom? 

Mks. B. Yes. 

B. And some matches? 

Mrs. B. Yes; they are with the other bundles. 

I>. And did you see about coal? 

Mrs. B. Yes: it will be up tomorrow. 

B. And the woman to see the grate in the dining room? 

Mks. B. Ves: she is coming as soon as she can. 

B. Did you see Smith about the Gentlemen's Aid Society meeting? 

Mrs. B. Yes, and he said he'd come. 

B. And — oh., yes — did you get a new shovel for the kitchen stove? 

Mrs. B. No, no, no, I forgot it. 

B. What did you do that for? You know we need that shovel and I 
told you about it the very first thing- when you went down town this morn- 
ing. I do think women are the most forgetful and careless creatures that 
ever lived. Did you mail that letter for me? 

Mrs. B. No, I didn't. Now, James, I am going down town (Rises) and 
I shall be home to dinner at six and I shall bring some friends with me 
and I want you to hustle around and get the washing- done and clear up 
this kitchen, for it is a disgrace the way it looks now. And that baby, he 
looks like a fright; dress him up so that he will not disgrace his mother 
and don't forg-et to have a good dinner. 

15. Yes, Maria, my dear; er-er say, Maria, do you think you could 
spare a little money today? 

Mrs. BrowiNStone. What, again James? Why, I gave you your 
housekeeping allowance on — let me see — Thursday, wasn't it? Really. 
James, some of you men seem to think we women are made of money. 

Bkownstone. You forget, my dear, there's Cholly's new party suit to 
come out in, you know. 

Mrs. Bkownstone. Confound it, there's always something for Cholly. 

B. You must remember, my dear, that if Cholly is ever to take any 
place socially he must be dressed like the rest of the young men. Then 
there's the water rent and gas bill, and the children both need new shoes. 

Mks. B. Didn't I give you the money for that? 

B. No. dear; that was for the flannel for Milly's warm petticoats I am 
making. Besides, dear, don't be angry, will you? I saw such a cheap pair 
of trousers at the clearance sale yesterday that I couldn't resist buying - 
them and you know I've hardly had a rag to my back. 

Mks. B. Always your cry. James. Keally your extravagance in dress 
is something sinful. Its a pity you haven't got to go and earn the money. 
You'd know its value then. Here's oOc. and for goodness sake do try and 
pay some of your household bills with it and buy provisions and not trifle 
the money away on a lot of trash. Times are hard now and money scarce. 
besides I must have a new dress. 

II. Thei-e's a good, darling wife: let me help my Maria on with her 
coat. Say. Maria, can't I have a night key? 

Mrs. 1!. Night key! What earthly use can you have for a night key? 
Sunday evenings I always attend church, the Daughters of Rebekah meet 
.Monday night, and there's no one else who can fill my position. Then 
there's the Pierian club which meets Tuesday evenings and I must go to 



EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 

that. Wednesday evening- there's the Pythian Sisters. Then I can't miss 
the Woman's club Thursday evening-, they are studying Shakespeare, you 
know. Then there is the Friday club and I must do my part in that, and on 
Saturday night there is the Eastern Stars and I certainly must fill my posi- 
tion there. Night key! Indeed, you must stay home and take care of the 
baby. (Substitute names of local societies.) 
B. Will you be out late tonight? 

Mrs. B. Can't say, I'm sure. Have got a lot to attend to today and I 
shall drop into the club for an hour or so after, so it will probably be late. 
So long. (Exit — left.) 

B. If Maria doesn't spend a little more time at home I shall go home 
to paw. (Weeps. Fires bottle for baby and starts to feed it.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. — Ladies Club Room. 

Scene. — Room should contain table and easy chairs, settees and other luxuries. 
When curtain rises Indies are <dl seated around <md smoking cigarettes, 
taking things easy as behooves t)ic. lards of creation. Present, Mrs. Brown- 
stone, Mrs. Herbert. Mrs. Grover, Mrs. Wayup. Mrs. Bland, Mrs. Beacon- 
street. Mrs. Brownstone is the leader. 

Mrs. Brownstone. Now. ladies, what shall be the subject of discus- 
sion today? 

Mus. Herbert. I would suggest that we discuss the question of gov- 
ernment finances and their relation to free silver. 

Mrs. Grovep. I • understand Mrs. President Dole has just called an 
international convention for the discussion of the silver question. 

Mrs. Wayup. Yes, but I understand also that Mrs. Secretary Thurs- 
ton has called the president down. The secretary says the government 
revenues are ample and that we do not need any more silver in circulation. 

Mrs. Beaconstreet (A gold, buy) That speech of Mrs. Senator Hill in 
congress last week was a gre.it one; she knocked the pegs clear out from 
under the silver advocates, and showed beyond question that gold is the 
only real money. 

Mrs. Bland (A strong silver advocate.) I read that speech and think it 
a great fake: in fact, there was a book written more than a hundred years 
ago when the men were running the government. This book was called 
"Coin's Financial School," and while I never had much of an opinion of 
the ability of the men to run the government. I think this man ••Coin" was 
a wonderfully smart fellow. At any rate if he was -not he fooled a great 
many people in his day. I think that we ought to have lots of silver 
money and that Mrs. President Dole should do all in her power to put 
more silver into circulation. 

Mrs. Brownstone. My judgment is that the hard times now existing 
cannot be traced to the lack of silver in circulation, but is directly caused 
by the extravagance of our husbands in running- our domestic affairs Why 
only a few days ago my husband had the temerity to hire a dressmaker to 
help him make my club dresses without consulting me. Of course I kicked 
but finally told him I would pay the bill this time if it was not more than 
two dollars and a half, but he must never do it again. 

Mrs. Herbert. Such extravagance will ruin the country if it is kept up. 

Mrs. G hover. My husband is pretty good about those things. Only 
last week he worked until 12 o'clock every night on one of my dresses. I 
happen to know because 1 was out to a little poker club we have just orga- 
nized. You see it is a new thing and the women in our neighborhood are 
very enthusiastic. One or two of them dropped a big sum last nig'ht and I 
am afraid they will be a little skeery next time, but they have g-ot great 
nerve. One of them bet all her loose change, then after that was gone she 
took off her watch and bet that. She lost and then pulled off her shawl, 
bet that, that was soon gone, then she borrowed a mackintosh and went 
home as happy as a clam. It is a good thing our husbands do not dare to 
make a kick about these things. If they did it would be lively for us. 



S EMANCIPATED WOMAN'. 

M KS. BROWNSTONE. DM any of you attend the West End theatre Tues- 
day night. They have a great star there. His stage name is John Smith. 
;i very rare name at the present time. I tell you he is creating' a great 
furor. Mis strong point is in illustrating the conditions of the last cen- 
tury. He takes occasion to roast the women of the present, day pretty 
hard' for their, extravagance and dissipation. Mr. Brownstone wanted to 
go but I told him the play was not a proper one for him to attend. The 
truth is 1 was afraid lie would catch on to something that would make him 
a worse kicker than he is now. and the Lord knows he is bad enough as it 
is. I guess he won't be likely to go as I know he has not got money 
enough to buy a ticket. 

Mrs. Herbert. I don't think it is a good plan to allow these luen to go 
to theatres and such places very much. It has a tendency to demoralize 
them and make them less domestic. 

Mrs. Grover. Right you are. Mrs Herbert. I tell my husband that I 
am perfectly capable of attending to all outside matters, including shows, 
and all 1 ask of him is to attend strictly to his domestic affairs. He kicks 
a little once in a while but I manage to hold him level. 

MRS. Wayup. Bythe wav, did you hear that Miss Samanthy Ketchem 
had just proposed to Mr. Dodger and been rejected? What do you think 
of a man who would reject such a proposal? Hasn't he g - ot lots of nerve? 

Mrs. Beaconstreet. Well. I don't know as I blame him much. Miss 
Ketchum has got lots of stamps, but she is as homely as a hedg-e fence and 
has a squint eye. Perhaps Mr. Dodger thoug-ht he would rather run the 
risk of dying a sing-le man than to marry her. 

Mrs. Grover. Now. ladies, I think Mr. Dodger was right. I admire 
his nerve. (Arises from her chair and rings the bell. Abe the waiter answers 
the hell anil asks the ladies what thru will have. Each lady orders what she 
wants. The waiter soon returns with glasses on u tray and places them on the table. 
Mrs (irover now proposes that we drink to the health of Mr Dodger, a man who has 
the nerre to refuse a proposal of marriage Ladies rise. Curtain falls while tin// are 
drinking.) 



ACT III. 
Scene : — Sitting room in the Brownstone residence Door, center. Fireplace lift if door. 

Table and three chairs, left. Sofa, right Children's clothing scattered about the 

room Enter Brownstone 

Brownstone. Dear me! I must sit down and rest a minute. Bythe 
time I get that baby asleep at night' I am that fagged out I can hardly 
move. And then that dinner. 1 was that flustered when Maria brought 
up those friends of hers. I do hope everything- went off all right. There 
was no cream for the mayonaise dressing so I had to use some sour inilk I 
had on hand. I don't believe Maria knew the difference, though. Then 
the potatoes were a little scorched. Maria looked daggers at me about 
that, hut she had the grace to keep quiet for once. But that would have 
been all right if the baby had not upset the gravy in Mrs. Wayup's lap. 
[ was that mortified — oh dear, dear! I wish Maria would stop bringing 
people up to dinner on wash day. She is so inconsiderate about that. 
(Door bell rings.) oh dear! that bell has been ringing all day. I wonder 
who it is now. 

Enter Herbert. 

HERBERT, Oood evening, Brownstone. I just dropped in with that 
sugar 1 borrowed day before yesterday. 

BROWNSTONE. oh. is that you Herbert? .lust take a seat. Maria has 
g-one to the club and < holly is out to a tea party and won't be home for a 
little while, so I am all alone. How are the children? 

Herbert. I have just been having a dreadful time with those chil- 
dren. Nellie is that head -strong and unruly I can't do anything with her. 
She is just like her mother. Elizabeth was always that wav. 

BROWNSTONE. Well. 1 don't know what I am going to do with Cholly. 
He is just that infatuated with. the g'irls that he is no good around the 
house at all. He leaves me to wash the dishes and spends his time fixing - 



EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 9 

his clothes and curling' his hair; and that Smashem girl keeps coming 
around, and I know Cholly will just worry the life out of me, but I just 
won't have that young - woman around. {Door Ml rings) There goes that 
bell again. I wonder if that is Miss Croesus— and Cholly is away too. 

Enter Sir. Grover. 
Ah! Good evening. Mr. Grover, so glad you came. (Aside) Old hyp- 
ocrite, wish he'd go home: I'm just tired to death. 

Grover. Good evening. Mr. Brownstone. I just got Esther to sleep: 
poor thing, she is just cutting- teeth and is so restless. Thank fortune. 
Ruth goes to sleep early. 1 just came in for a moment, can't stay a min- 
ute — oh. no, but just wanted to ask if you had heard the terrible story 
about Mr. and Mrs. Hardcash? 

Brownstone. No, what is it? Do have a cup of tea while you tell it. 

Grover. Thanks, I will. Why. Mr. Beaconstreet told me that Mr. 
Wayup told him that Mr. Slowpay said that Mr. Hardcash was suing for a 
divorce from Mrs. Hardcash on the ground of desertion. 

Herbert. Well, I don't blame her for deserting him; he is the most 
slovenly housekeeper in the town. The children are always dirty and Mrs. 
Hardcash jiist looks terrible and I believe its because her liver is out of 
order from his poor cooking. 

Brownstone. Well, then she can take something for it. But I don't 
think its her liver at all. Maria says that Mrs. Hardcash g-ambles terribly 
on the board of trade and 1 just hope that Hardcash will make it warm for 
her. Have another cup of tea, Mr. Herbert? 

Herbert. Don't care if 1 do. 

Brownstone. By the way, j'ou must not breathe a word of it to a soul. 
I would not have her know it for the world, but they do say that Mrs. 
Gresham is loosing her mind. 

Herbert. } v 
Grover. \ iNO ' 

Brownstone. Yes. they say she is doing the most unheard of things. 
They do say that she has just recently bought he'- husband two new suits 
of clothes, and that the way she squanders money on him is just scandalous. 

Herbert. There must be something wrong or she never would do 
that. 

Gijover. Well, really. I can't stay a miniate longer. I must hurry 
back and get my bread sponge ready. 

Brownstone. Oh, don't hurry away. 

Grover. Yes, I must go. 

Brownstone. So glad you came in: good night, do come again soon. 
(Exit Mr. Grover:) 

Brownstone. Hope he won't come in again for a month. I just de- 
test him. always prying into other people's affairs: told Mr. Beaconstreet 
the other day that Maria was going to fail in business — and Beaconstreet 
came right over and told me about it. 

Herbert. Well, that's just like Beaconstreet. Every time he hears 
anything unpleasant about any one he just has to go and tell that person 
all about it. He's a regular old cat. Hello! You have been having some 
callers, haven't you? Mr. A. Penelope Wayup, dear me. does he call on 
you? They tell me the extravagance in that household is just awful. 
Have you got your spring housecleaning done yet? 

Brownstone. No, and I just hate to commence it too. Maria always 
makes such a fuss at that time and Cholly grumbles so when the parlor 
is torn up. and we are going to have to have that room papered too, and 
it will make an awful mess. Have you got your house cleaned yet? 

Herbert, No. I have been too busy with the spring sewing. I have 
had to make everything over for the -children out of old stuff because 
money is too scarce. Elizabeth says, to get anything new this year. Well. 
I must be getting back; I left the baby in the bath tub and he may take 
cold. 

Brownstone. Sorry you can't stay longer. Do come in soon again 
and bring your sewing with you and spend the afternoon. 



Kt EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 

Herbert. Yes. I will; you come and see me real soon. 
BROWNSTONE. Yes 1 will; now you come and see me, don't forget. 
Herbert. Yes. I won't Well, good-bye, I must go; do come soon. 
Brownstone. Good-bye. (Exit Herbert) 

Brownstone {gathering up clothes in room) Well, I shall be glad to get 
to bed tonight. I wish (holly would come home. I don*t like to have 

t hat boy out so late at night alone. 

Enter Cholly Brownstone. 

('holly. (Aside) Aw dear, now I must get papa out of the way. 
Daisy Smashem is coming and papa must not see her. Aw, I know what 
I'll do, don't you know. {Aloud) Say, papa? 

Brownstone. Is that you Cholly? So g-lad you have come. 

(holly. Old Mr. Hardup is very sick and wants to know if you can't 
go down to his house and stay with him a while. 

Brownstone. Why, that's just too bad. I'll g-o right over there. Its 
a long way but in such a case I must not hesitate, and I think I'll take 
along a little camphor and some painkiller and a box of Dr. Cureall's pills. 
Now. (holly, just g - et me the hot water bag and see if there is some mus- 
tard. May be- if I get a good hot mustard plaster on and get him good and 
sore outside he won't know that he feels so bad inside. And I must not 
forget the sarsaparilla for that tired feeling that comes in the spring. 
Now. (holly, you look after the baby and if I shouldn't get back soon get 
your mother's dressing gown and slippers ready for her: she will be tired 
when she gets home. 

(holly. Yes. papa. (Exit Brownstone) There she comes now. Won- 
der if I am all rij-ht. (Steps to looking glass) Yes, I aw, guess I'll do. 

Enter J'aisy Smashem. 

Daisy. Good evening, Mr. Brownstone. 

(holly. Why. good evening, Miss Smashem. Come in and sit down. 
Papa has just gone out to see a sick man, but will be back in a little while. 
(Pause) Its a lovely evening, isn't it? 

Daisy. Yes. beautiful, but these spring rains will be such a good 
thing. (Pause) Is your mother at home this evening? 

(holly. No, she went down to the club and won't be home till late; 
she never is. 

DaioY. Say, I'm awfully glad you are alone. We have the field all to 
ourselves, haven't we? By the way. I brought something around for you; 
I left it out in the hall. Just excuse me a moment and I will get it. (Goes 
out into the hall) 

Cholly. Wonder why she wants to see me alone? Isn't she just 
splendid? 

Be enter Daisy with bouquet. 
Daisy. Here are a few blossoms I thought you might like. Father 
grows so many we hardly know what to do with them. I arranged them 
specially for you. 

Cholly. Oh! Miss Smashem; that was just too lovely of you: aren't 
they sweet? I do so love flowers: they are just too sweet for anything. 

Daisy. No. there is something else that is incomparably sweeter even 
than the flowers that bloom in the spring-. Can you guess what it is? 

Cholly. No — I think not. 

Daisy. It is your own sweet self. 

(holly. Oh. Miss Smashem! 

Daisy. Yes. (holly — I may call you Cholly, may I not? 

(holly. Y — yes. 

Daisy. Cholly. listen to me. Ever since I first met you I have been 
irresistibly attracted to you. I have stolen away from the office in the 
hopes of catching a glimpse, of you as you flitted about the house doing 
your house work. Oh. Cholly! Now that we are alone, I cannot wait 
longer before telling- you that I love you. 

(holly. Oh, Miss Smashem! This — this is so sudden. 



EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 11 

Daisy. Call me Daisy: don't blast my hopes by a cold and formal Miss 
Smasiism. You will call me Daisy, won't you? 

( 'holey. V — yes. Daisy. 

Daisy. Oh. what if I were to tell you all that is in my heart. You 
must have seen it long- ere this. I know that I am not worthy of you, but 
1 will try my best to make you a happy husband. I cannot offer you a 
luxurious home, nor a carriage nor an opera bo>c — like Groldie Groesus — yet 
1 believe I can g-ive you a comfortable home. 1 have just been made man- 
aging' editor of the Daily Inquisitor and stand a chance to become editor- 
in-chief. Oh. Cholly! Don't keep me in this awful suspense: tell me that 
I may hope to call you mine. 

Cholly. Oh. Daisy, you must really give me time to think it over. I 
cannot answer now. What would papa say? And Oh. Daisy! I am so 
young, you must ask mama. 

Daisy. If your mama consents. Cholly. will you be mine? Just give 
me the one little word that will make you mine forever. Oh. my darling! 
Will you say the little word? 

Cholly. Y — yes, Daisy. 

Daisy. My darling. 

Cholly. But, Daisy, you must promise me one thing, won't you. 
dearest? 

Daisy. I will promise you anything. What is it. my own.' 

Cholly. You will quit smoking-, won.t you? 

Daisy. Yes — when we are married. 

Cholly. Oh! You dear delightful old girl — you may kiss me: but. 
Daisy, will 3-011 always love me? 

Daisy. Forever: how can you doubt it? 

Cholly. Oh, won't that be lovely: and. Daisy, you won't. Oh. tell me 
you won't say anything about the good pies your father used to make, will 
you? 

Daisy. No, my sweetest one. no. 

Cholly. Nor stay late at the club or lodge? 

Daisy. No. my own, my ownest own: I will be home by eight o'clock 
every night. 

(holly. Oh. you are just too sweet. And, Daisy, you will build the 
fires in the morning, won't you? 

Daisy. Always: and you shall never have to do any of the drudgery 
about the house and you shall alwa'ys keep a hired man and have plenty 
of leisure to follow your favorite accomplishments and you shall have all 
the money I earn. 

Cholly. And you shall always be true to me and we shall be so 
happy. But, Oh! Daisy, what will mama say? 

Daisy. Oh, we can fix it up with her all right. Let us take a stroll in 
the beautiful moonlight and arrange a plan of campaign with your mama. 
( Exit Cholly and Daisy ) 

Enter Brownstone 
Brownstone. I didn't think a son of mine would ever decieve me this 
way. Mr. Hardup was all right and 1 have had that long- walk for noth- 
ing- and I am all out of breath. I wonder if Daisy Smashem — Oh! what a 
responsibility it is for a father to see his sons advantageously married off. 
Well, I suppose I must get the darning done. I just mend. mend, all the 
time. I wonder where my thimble is: well. well, that is funny: I wonder 
where it could have got to. Now just look at that (holding up stocking) I 
wish I could impress it upon .Maria's mind that if she would change her 
stockings twice a week instead of once it would make a great difference in 
the mending. 

(Enter Mrs. Brownstone. Tipsy ) 

Mrs. Brownstone. Say. James— hie— I have been down at the office 
at work and I am all tired — hie — out. 

Brownstone. Yes. Maria, you look all tired out. I know how you 
have been working and I'd just think you'd be ashamed of yourself when I 



12 EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 

have to slave all the time to keep thing's going and do the washing, while 
you go down to the club and make a beast of yourself. And 1 am that 
worried about everything - I don't know what to do. There's the baby to 
look after all the time and he's ciitting teeth now and is just as cross as 
can be. There is Cholly and I don't know what I will do with him. I sup- 
pose he's out with that Daisy Smash em now somewhere mooning around. 
If you would take a little responsibility about the house once in a while, I 
would not be so worn out. 

M i:s. Brownstone. Why, James, — hie — let the young folks have a good 
time. Daisy Smashem is a good fellow, so am I — hie — a good fellow. We're 
all good fellows. Daisy is a member of our club and its all right. 

Brownstone. 1 should think you would have a little ambition about 
our Cholly, and not want him to marry somebody without a cent to her 
name. 

Mrs. Brownstone. Well, I'll see that's all-right and don't say another 
word about it. 

Enter Cholly and Daisy. 

Daisy. (Jreat Scott! Here's your mother. Let me out. 
Mrs. Brownstone. Young woman — hie — come here. I understand 
that you are coming around here after Cholly. 

Daisy. Y — yes, Mrs. Brownstone. Cholly just confessed tonight that 
he loves me and we are going to ask your consent. 

Mrs. Brownstone. All right, young woman, you can have him. Now 
Cholly, go and talk to your father, and 1 guess he will be all right. You 
consent to this, James, and I'll never drink — hie — another drop. 

Brownstone. You promise that, Maria, and I'll — I give my consent 
but I did want Cholly to make a good match. 

Mrs. Brownstone. Now then, you young folks, you'd better say good 
night in the hall: and, Daisy, you can come down to the office in the morn- 
ing and we'll fix things up. (Exit Cholly <t>id Daisy.) 

Brownstone. Well, Maria. I must go and see if the children are all 
right. [Exit Brownstone — Center) 

Mrs. Brownstone. All right, James. Ah, shay, but we had a great 
time at the club tonigmt: but. oh shay, what a head I'll have in the morn- 
ing. I guess when that door comes around again I'll go to bed. (Scream 
heard off.) 

(Enter Brmrnstonc frantically.) 

Brownstone. Oh, Maria! there's a woman in the house — I know there 
is. Oh. what shall I do, what shall I do? {Retires to sofa hysterically.) 

(Enter Dusty Maud who is hustled out by Mrs. Brownstoneas curtain falls) 



ACT IV. 

Scene — Vacant house on Tremoni street. TJtis should show a destitute room 
with no chairs or other furniture. The men should come in in a scarred 
sort of a way as though they hud done somethiug they were ashamed of and 
were afraid tiny would be found out. They keep watching and listening till 
they hear the ladies coming in. Theladies, retiring from the club, see the 
light, and rush in without ceremony. 

(Enter Mr. Brownstone and Mr. Herbert) 

Brownstone. Well, Herbert, did yon s^e those other men about com- 
ing here tonight? 

Herbert. Yes, I saw several of them and some of the.n will be here 
after a while, but they are so afraid their wives will find it out that they 
hardly dare to come. 

Brownstone. Well, I don't know as we can blame them much, as if 
they do get caught they will catch it for a while at home. I tell you what 
it is, Herbert, things are getting pretty tough. I have been working night 
and day lately trying to keep things in shape around the house, but with 
tending the baby, getting the meals, and doing all the sewing. I can't 
hardly have time to sleep, and my wife, it seems as thoug-h she becomes 



EMANCIPATED WOMAN. 13 

more overbearing - and unreasonable every Hay. She is eternally finding 
fault with the way thing's are done. I'll tell you what I think, but you 
must never breathe a word to any one — I think she has lost some money 
playing poker lately. wShe is all the time kicking about hard times and 
telling how scarce money is and finding fault about the house expenses, 
but I tell you what it is. Herbert. I have squeezed everything down fine at 
the house. I make a dollar go a great ways, but I can"t always stand this. 
I shall break down one of these days and thea what will my wife do? 

Herbert. Oh. 1 suppose she will do as the rest do — when one husband 
is gone look around and find another one. Rut hark, here comes someone. 
(<>pms the door softly and Mr Way up and \1r G rover enter All look scared and 
are peering round as if afraid someone would discover what they were doing.) 

Rrownstone. Good evening, gentlemen: I hope you left your chil- 
dren all right. How did you manage to get away? 

\Vayui\ Well, to tell the truth I had a hard time to get away. My 
wife, she goes every night to that new poker club. She has gone wild 
over it. and I got a friend of mine (a man who has only two children to 
take care of) to come over and stay a little while: 1 told him I would not 
be g-one long. 

Grover. Well, I had to do a little lying to get away and if my wife 
ever finds it out she will take my hide right off. I told her I was g - oing to 
visit a sick friend. 

Brownstone. Well. I guess you didn't lie much for I guess you are 
visiting several sick friends. Rut listen! I think I hear someone. {Opens 
the door softly and looks out. Mr lieacoustreet and Mr Bland soon appear, cominy 
in out of breath and seeming badly frightened.) 

Brownstone. Well, my frieads. did you have a hard time getting 
here? 

Beaconstreet. I should say we did. We were coming down on the 
shady side of the street, and who should we see but Mrs. Beaconstreet and 
.Mrs. Bland just coming out of a cafe. They were on their way to the 
poker club and stopped into Mrs. Skinner's cafe for a social drink, but we 
run like steers and I guess they didn't see us. 

Rr.AND. No, I guess they didn't. If they had I should have got a 
going over that would last ma a month. My wife is a holy terror when 
she gets started. 

Brownstone. I guess they are all abjut alike, but I don't suppose 
there will be any more here, so we may as well ome to business. Mr. 
Herbert and I were talking matters over a few days ago and we thought 
perhaps if a few of us wmild g*et together and discuss the subject we 
might hit upon some plan by which we could benefit our condition. 

Grover. The Lord knows there is need enough of it: we are a lot of 
down-trodden critters, but under the present conditions, what can we 
do? We are not allovve:! to vote or have any voice in the government; we 
have to stay at home and take care of the children and do all the house 
work, to say nothing of the sewing and making dresses for our wives to 
wear to the club and elsewhere. Mr. Brownstone. have you any plan to 
suggest? I will go in for most anything that promises relief, but we want 
to be very careful or our wives will find it out. and if they do we shall be 
likely to get a touch of what we imagine exists in the lower regions. 

Brownstone. How would it do for us to agree to go home and after a 
few days (we must not do it too quick or they will suspect something) tell 
our wives that we must have at least one night in a week to ourselves, and 
that we must have a little m mey once in a while, sav a dollar a week or 
something like that? Do you think that will be asking too much? 

Beaconstreet. No. I don't, but 1 am afraid if I should ask my wife 
for a dollar a week she would make such a howl that I would not be able 
to sleep for a month. Why. I haven't had a dollar for three months: just 
look at these clothes. I have had them five years and don't even have time 
to sew lip the holes. Just look at them, will you? 

Bland. Mine are about the same. I wish we could get a little more 
of that free silver that we hear our wives talking about. 

Rrownstone. If we could get our wives to agree to let us have one 
evening in a week to ourselves it will be a big thing. We could get together 



14- EM VNCIPAT1 D WOMAN. 

then ;ind have a little social chat, and for the time forget our troubles. 
Suppose we try once to get an allowance of a dollar a week and one even- 
ing to ourselves. What say you? • • 
Wayvp. Well, I don't know but your suggestion is a good one. It 
don't seem as though that was asking a great deal, but since our wives got 
to going to that new poker club they are worse than ever. Tell you what 
it is. my wife makes it pretty sultry round the house sometimes when she 
comes home. AVe have to all stand from under till she gets sobered up. I 
am afraid our wives will get to drinking awfully if they keep this poker 
club going. I don't believe they will give us a dollar a week or a night 
out once a week the way things are now. 

GrROVER. My opinion is. gentlemen, that we had better go pretty slow 
about asking them for money till they get over this poker craze. 

Herbert. Tell you what it is. gentlemen. I am a little skeer}- myself 
about it. Our friend Brownstone here has got considerable nerve: besides 
he knows pretty well how to get on the good side, of that wife of his. Tell 
you what let's do. Let Brownstone try the scheme on his wife first and if 
he succeeds we can all try it. If he fails there is no show for the rest of 
us. Brownstone w-as telling- me about a book he read the other day: I 
have thought a good deal about it since. It was written over a hundred 
years ago. It was published in a town they called LeMars. in a state they 
called Iowa, in the United States of America. At that time men "were the 
bosses: they did all the business, handled all the cash, proposed to the 
women they wanted to marry, smoked cigars, drank beer, and had a good 
time generally. Sometimes I wish it was so now, but it would be an awful 
responsibility to ask a woman to marry you. Don't j^ou think so. Grover? 

Grovek. It would take nerve, but I guess if we were used to it we 
could do it. but let us meet here again next Tuesday nig-ht if we can get 
away and see how Brownstone comes out with his wife. 

(Just as Mr. Grover ceases speaking, the ladies rush in. Mrs. Brownstone 
acts as spokesman for the ladies ami Mr. Herbert answers for the gentlemen. 
The gentlemen all gather in a group as though they were badly frightened. Mrs. 
Brownstone advances from the group of ladies.) 

.Mrs. Brownstone. Well, gentlemen, what does all this mean? What 
have you got to say for yourselves? 

Herbert. {Stepping forward) Well, ladies, we thought we would get 
together here and discuss some of our troubles. We think we are having 
a hard time and not many privileges. We have decided to ask our wives 
to allow us one nig-ht in a week to ourselves and a dollar a week for spend- 
ing money. Now. ladies, do you think that is too much? Have not we 
worked faithfully and tried to save all we could? I appeal to you in the 
name of justice and on behalf of the gentlemen here assembled to grant 
our request. 

MRS. BROWNSTONE. All right, g-entlemen, I think you have a pretty 
hard time and your request seems very reasonable. (Turns to ladies.) 
Ladies. 1 move we grant their request. What say you? 

LADIES. (Inchorus.) Yes. yes. we'll grant it. And let's go home. 
(Each lady lakes her husband's arm ami marches to the front of the stage. 
Curtain falls. 

Tin; END. 
Note. Use name of town in which play is given in place of LeMars. 



Emancipated 
Woman . . . 



A SCENE FROM REAL LIFE 
IN THE YEAR 2000 

A BURLESQUE IN FOUR ACTS 




GIVING THE CAST OF CHARACTERS, COSTUMES, SCENERY, 
EXITS AND ENTRANCES, AND STAGE BUSINESS' 



Copyright 1895, by the Congregational Church Society oi LeMars, Iowa 



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